Evening Cocoa
by jake111
Summary: There's nothing quite like a nice hot cup of cocoa to round off the day
1. Pondering the Queen's Gambit

There is nothing quite like a nice cup of hot cocoa on a rainy night.

That's what was going through Evie Frye's mind as she sipped at her cocoa and looked out at the slums of Whitechapel. She wasn't sure about her brother's idea with the Rooks, but she couldn't question how it turned out in this case. The train at the very least would serve as a good base for their London ventures.

Then again, how much could she say about his brashness considering how quickly she'd agreed to this escapade in London? There was that little voice in the back of her mind again, telling her that she should've thought it through more thoroughly.

But, she countered, the only other option was letting their only lead on another Piece of Eden slip away. If she'd just been a few hours earlier…

No matter, what's past is past, Brewster was dead and all she could do now was find the artifact before Miss Thorne. Mister Green's contacts had been an immeasurable, if expensive, help in finding out that Miss Thorne had yet to secure the Piece of Eden. Jacob's Rooks had also proved most helpful in intercepting messengers carrying Templar communications. Though Jacob himself couldn't care less about the hunt for the artifact.

He'd always been that way though, even when they were children. While she'd hung on to every word of their father's teachings with rapt attention, he'd gone out into the seedier parts of town and found himself to be more at home cavorting with lowlifes in taverns and gambling dens.

Most of Mister Green's contacts are lowlifes who spend their time in taverns and gambling dens, another part of her said, stones and glass houses and the like.

"That's different," she muttered as she stared into the fire crackling in her fireplace. She was pursuing the artifact, doing what her father would have wanted.

She shook the thought out of her head, as much as she loved her father, thinking about him almost always led to thoughts about his death, and the painful build up to it.

She forced her mind away from that topic and turned her attention back to Whitechapel and the Rooks. Establishing themselves hadn't been that difficult, with the assistance of Mister Green's contacts, they'd been able to strike at the blighters weak points in short order. She referred to it as Jacob's enterprise, but in truth, she'd handled a fair bit of the work herself. She'd captured the criminal that Sergeant Abberline had requested and liberated a number of children from a factory for a young Miss Clara O'Dea. Mainly because both actions required a certain subtlety that Jacob lacked. Not to mention the fact that Jacob had little patience for children. It wasn't that he didn't care for them, Jacob loved children, he just couldn't stand how they often acted.

In the end though, they'd managed to make enough of a nuisance of themselves to draw the local leader of the Blighters into a gang war, in which he was killed by Jacob. Rather brutally at that, Jacob had sent the man to his knees and shot him in the side of the side of the head like an executioner. Gory though it was, the bit of showmanship took the fight right out of the remaining Blighters. With their leader executed, they'd been only too happy to stand with the Rooks.

Not exactly a loyal group these gang members.

Jacob had been thrilled, though Evie was slightly less enthused by their success. Yes they'd gotten their own territory, yes it was a decent strike against the local Templar presence, but what had they really accomplished with their actions. They'd handed a small time criminal over to the police and liberated a small group of children, both of these actions were good, but changed nothing overall. Whitechapel was still overrun with criminals and children were still suffering in the streets.

It reminded her of a quote of their father's. "It takes more than a blade to make a difference," he used to say during her lessons, "it takes a plan and it takes dedication."

Still her focus had to remain on finding the Piece of Eden, that was the only way to make a truly significant strike against the Templars. Once the artifact was securely in the hands of the Assassins, then they could focus improving the situation here in London. Though Evie wasn't entirely sure that Jacob was all that concerned about improving the situation in London, his main focus seemed to be more focused on killing Templars. She quite honestly suspected that he viewed killing Templars and improving the lives of the people of London as the same thing.

Though he certainly seemed to have no problems taking in the local color, he hadn't been in when she'd gotten back to the train after assisting Mister Bell. When he did return that evening, it was with a young woman who had the look of a professional. She was pretty enough, and Evie might have even considered taking her to bed if not for her being with Jacob for the evening and Evie's strict policy of no paid sexual liaisons. Perhaps it made sense, they were twins after all, they had to share some traits. Taste in women being one of those traits was, however, slightly surprising.

She'd always been aware that sexual proclivities were rather eccentric, Jacob had learned fairly quickly as they both began to take a fresh interest in girls at around the same time. Their father had learned when he accidentally walked into her room one morning to find Sarah, her childhood friend, wrapped up in Evie's arms, both of them very naked. All in all, he'd been very accepting of the whole matter. Though he did sit them both down and make it clear that the whole affair and their preferences had to remain secret. Neither of them had any problem with that, both were quite aware of what it would do to their reputations should their liaisons become public knowledge.

Ahh, Sarah, such a shame their relationship had to end when she'd married the son of the owner of the local pub. Evie understood of course, Sarah had to put her family first and that was something Evie was intimately familiar with.

Evie took one last sip of her cocoa and placed the empty cup back on the tray. She really had to get some sleep, she had a few more leads to follow up on and tomorrow night Miss Thorne was supposed to be moving an important chest near the docks. Hopefully whatever the chest contained would lead her to the Piece of Eden.

 **Okay, I had to write this after playing Syndicate, for a lot of reasons. One, it's one of the most fun assassin's creed games I've played in a while. Two, as much fun as it is, the main game is Jacob's story. You are required to play as Jacob for almost all of the main missions, and while I do like him, I really wish they would have had more Evie centric missions.**

 **One of the things that you guys'll probably notice pretty quick is the fact that I made Evie a lesbian, once again multiple reasons. The first being that if any of you have read my other stories, you know that I always make my main characters lesbians. This is because while I like writing female characters, I can't put myself into the mind of someone who wants to be romantically involved with a man. I just can't think like that for some reason, the pieces don't click in my mind. Secondly, while I realize that Assassin's Creed isn't a role playing game and I can't take as many liberties as say Fallout or GTA Online, the whole Henry romance just felt really forced for me. Don't get me wrong, I like Henry, the problem goes back to Evie not getting enough screen time. The romance didn't really form on screen, they just seemed to be closer every mission and it's implied they're spending a lot of time together off screen. So yeah.**

 **I feel like this was kind of choppy and unfocused, which is what I was going for, I really kind of want it to come across as the random thoughts Evie's having as she reflects on her day. But I'm not sure if that makes it less enjoyable to read.**

 **I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this or if it will just be one-shot, but if I do continue, I promise that the author's notes will not be nearly this long again. I just had to clarify a few things from the start.**

 **R &R people, tell me what you think of my first assassin's creed story.**


	2. Queens Gambit Accepted

Praise God, her day was over at last.

Evie Frye settled back into her arm chair with a cup of cocoa in hand, it had been a very long and irritating couple of days.

First came the whole farce at the docks, where she and Jacob had located Miss Thorne moving the box that they had come for. Evie managed to make her approach undetected, and found the contents of the chest to be a number of documents. Unfortunately, while she was examining them, Jacob had to do what Jacob does. She still wasn't entirely sure what exactly he had done, all she knew was that one moment she was going through the various documents in the chest, and the next thing she knew, every Blighter in the area was after them and she was trying to shoot them from the back of the racing carriage.

If that had been the only complication, she would've been only mildly irritated, and put it down to Jacob's brash behavior. What made her absolutely furious was the fact that Jacob must have underestimated the number of enemies in the area, because it soon became too much to handle, and they were forced to abandon the carriage, and more importantly, the chest. Evie had grabbed what she could, but it wasn't near what she could have gotten if they had procured the whole chest.

At the very least Henry's contacts assured her that Miss Thorne was still searching for the piece of Eden. If she was still searching, then it meant that Evie still had a chance of finding it first. She'd read through the notebook that she grabbed from the chest and the documents that had been inside the notebook. They seemed to indicate that her next move should be to investigate the Kenway manner.

She'd read about Edward Kenway of course, it had been part of her studies as a girl. He was one of the few assassins that her brother took an interest in studying. It made sense, she could easily draw several comparisons between the two. In fact, Jacob's plans with the Rooks weren't all that different from the fleet that Kenway had established. The more she thought about it, the more similarities she could see between them. They were both hard drinking womanizers who preferred associating with the criminal element, they both had more than a small selfish streak, and if the stories were accurate, they both tended to view violence and killing as the solution to any and all problems.

The main differences were that Kenway had changed as he got older, Evie had yet to see any sign of that in her brother. That and the situations they were dealing with, the thuggish style and violent approach had worked in Kenway's time and situation. He'd been battling pirates and soldiers, it was as close to open warfare as the Assassins and Templars got. The events of the past few days, however, were leading Evie that those methods were no longer usable.

Jacob had succeeded in killing Doctor Elliotson and put an end to the distribution of Soothing Syrup, that much was true. It had seemed like quite a step forward in Jacob's fight, and it was, but what she'd seen in her most recent visits to Lambeth made her feel like it was more of a pyrrhic victory.

With the rather public death of Doctor Elliotson came the closing of the asylum while the police conducted an investigation that Mister Abberline assured her would go nowhere, and without the Soothing Syrup, the district was flooded with counterfeit tonics. With the asylum, the only real place of healthcare in the district, closed, most of the inhabitants became more dependent on the counterfeit tonics to attempt to cure their ailments. While this was happening, thieves practically looted the place thanks to a few well-placed bribes to the constables charged with maintaining the property's security during the investigation. Thus, almost all of the real medicine ended up being hoarded by thieves or sold on the black market for exorbitant prices

The asylum reopened under the direction of Miss Florence Nightingale, but they were woefully undersupplied, causing most to stick to the tonics. This is what led to her encounter with Miss Nightingale. She'd been visiting Lambeth to see how it was faring after Doctor Elliotson's death, while visiting the asylum, she ran into young Clara, who was there seeking aid for herself and her fellow children of Babylon Alley. Clara had scarcely informed Evie of their plight before the poor thing collapsed into Evie's arms.

Florence Nightingale had rushed them both inside and set to work caring for Clara, however she informed Evie that there was little she could do without the appropriate medical supplies. With time running out, she quickly found a merchant dealing in the stolen medicine which led her to the stash of some of the thieves. She'd procured it without much difficulty and rushed back to the asylum. With the proper supplies, Miss Nightingale had been able to treat Clara. Evie had enlisted several rooks to transport Clara's urchins to the asylum for proper healthcare.

She'd ensured the recovery of Clara and her children, but securing proper healthcare for the rest of the borough had been quite another matter. She'd spent the past few days dealing with the healthcare crisis in Lambeth. She'd traced the false tonics back to the merchants dealing them and reported the culprits to Mister Abberline.

As for the thieves… well, violence did have it's time and place, she thought as she looked at her hidden blade. She and Mister Green had systematically rooted them out of Lambeth. Evie took few moral issues with common thievery, it was a part of the world she lived in, but when someone was actively taking advantage people's suffering, that was where she drew the line.

She'd diverted some of the Rooks' funds toward Miss Nightingale's cause in pushing for better sanitation regulations. Despite the circumstances, she took a great deal of pride in being able to claim the 'Lady of the Lamp' as one of her acquaintances. As well as her work to assist the people of London, Miss Nightingale was proving to be quite an asset by providing free medical care to Evie, Jacob, and the Rooks in exchange for security and assistance.

The situation had been stabilized, but she couldn't get the fact that it had all been caused by Jacob's actions. Even as adults, she was still cleaning up Jacob's messes. If he had just shown a little more tact, planned things out just slightly better, chosen a more subtle way of killing Elliotson or done it somewhere outside of the asylum, the entire problem could've been avoided.

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same, she mused as she sipped her cocoa. Though it had been much easier dragging a hungover Jacob out of a gutter after he'd been out all night at the local tavern than it was solving a localized healthcare crisis.

Evie heard someone enter the room, the steps were too light to be Jacob, Agnes, or Mister Green. Within a second, she was up, sword cane in hand, ready to face the possible threat.

"Oh, you must be Miss Frye, I apologize for startling you." A young woman in a nurse's uniform stood in the doorway. She was quite pretty, big blue eyes, long blonde hair, high cheekbones, and the svelte form.

"It's no trouble, simply a little paranoia on my part. You're one of Miss Nightingale's people, correct?" Evie set her sword cane against the bed, quietly cursing herself for reacting before thinking.

"Yes, a messenger came to asylum saying that Mister Frye required medical attention, Miss Nightingale sent me right over." It certainly didn't surprise Evie, the nights when Jacob didn't come back with at least a few bruises from his brawls were a rare occasion.

"Is he alright?"

"Oh yes, a few defensive cuts along the arms and the like, nothing serious." Well, that was good, at the very least.

"I apologize, I'm being rude, Evie Frye, it's a pleasure to meet you. May I offer you a cup of cocoa?" Evie extended her hand, which the nurse smiled and accepted.

"Emily Lyons, I'd love some."

 **I'll be honest guys, I wasn't planning on updating this soon, I was focused on my next chapter of Dominance, but much like Evie, my week has been super shitty. I overslept today and missed my class, and then I found out that my laptop went dead while I slept, so pretty much half the Dominance chapter, the half that I've been working on for the past week, is gone. So I wrote this instead to get my mind off of things.**

 **I don't entirely like this chapter, because I feel like most of it was just retelling the game, and I prefer to put more original content in. I don't know, what do you guys think?**

 **R &R people.**


	3. Beginning of the Midgame

"Why would you spend an evening in the Thames?"

This was an excellent question, one that Evie Frye was in no particular mood to answer.

"Thank you Emily," Evie sniffled as she propped herself up on her bed with pillows and accepted the offered cup of cocoa.

"You did not answer my question," Emily sat down in the armchair next to the bed.

"And you do not want to know the answer." Evie held the cocoa in one hand and smoothed out her night gown with the other. The reason, of course, was that one of Henry's contacts had found out that an heirloom of Edward Kenway had fallen into the hands of a low level Templar. A Captain Hargrave II, the Templar in charge of patrolling the Thames to ensure that only the Templars were able to smuggle their goods in and out of the city via the river. Evie had watched him, found his routine, and hung off the side of the man's boat at the exact spot where he would be out of sight during his evening rounds.

It was a solid plan, the problem came in the fact that the man delayed his rounds for over an hour. It took Evie half an hour to get into position, another hour and a half waiting for the man to fall into her trap, a half hour to search the man's quarters to find the heirloom, and then another half hour to swim to shore. The heirloom as it turned out, had nothing to do with the piece of Eden, it was the flag of Kenway's ship. Interesting, but not furthering her mission.

Still, it did look lovely on her bookshelf, though that was little consolation considering the nasty cold that she'd gained, courtesy of the frigid waters.

"I am quite sure that I do Evie, do you honestly believe that I do not know what you and your brother do?" That was also an excellent question, Evie assumed Emily must know something about their activities, but how much did she know?

"And what exactly do you think that we do?" Evie was honestly quite curious.

"Am I to believe that the stabbings and the slash wounds that your associates turn up at the asylum with come from accidents with letter openers, that the bullet wounds are from hunting accidents?" Very legitimate points, Evie thought. She should probably have expected the healthcare that the twins and the Rooks required would give away details about their operations.

"You two are gang leaders, gang leaders who are gaining quite a bit of notoriety as of late." That was another point that she felt shouldn't be as surprising as it was. Evie certainly expected Jacob to have gained a reputation, he stormed gang strongholds, brawled in the streets, raced carriages, and spent his evenings bouncing from bar to bar partaking in London's liquor and professional companions.

Evie focused mainly on her hunt for the pieces of Eden, and when she did get involved with the activities of the Rooks, she took a far more subtle approach. She worked with Ned Wynert and Agnes to manage the Rooks' funds and their legitimate businesses, as well as their more unsavory ventures. Other than that she'd assist Sergeant Abberline in apprehending criminals, and she worked with Clara to shut down factories that were using children.

She handled herself with a level of subtlety, planning her actions and leaving no evidence.

"And if my dear brother and I are such infamous gang leaders, why would you associate with us?" Evie sipped her cocoa, she was being coy and she knew it. But now was as good a time as any to gain some insight into Emily's thoughts.

She knew Emily to a point, Emily had been a nurse for the past two years and that she had grown up outside of London. She was not, however, familiar with how Emily and Miss Nightingale regarded the twins' illicit activities.

"Miss Nightingale does so out of a level of respect for your intentions, when measured against the Blighters, and because the Rooks ensure the asylum is well supplied and well funded." That certainly made sense, Miss Nightingale was quite a practical woman.

"And yo.. ah.. ah.. Achoo!" Evie was overtaken by a sneezing fit that descended into a coughing fit. Emily moved from the chair to sit on the side of the bed, gently rubbing Evie's back and taking the cup of cocoa from her hand to set on the side table. When the coughing subsided, Emily stood and went to her medical bag, pulling out a bottle of some liquid or another and pouring it into a measuring spoon.

"This will help with the coughing," Emily thrust the spoon into Evie's mouth with the flagrant disregard for personal space that only medical professionals were allowed. Evie accepted the foul liquid and forced herself to swallow it down.

"Thank you," Evie said and attempted to clear her throat. Emily held a small bowl in front of her and she spit the phlegm into it.

"Not very ladylike of me." Good lord, she hated being sick, hated the pain in her chest and limbs, hated the disgusting fluids coming out of her nose and throat, and hated needing someone to take care of her. Growing up, she had been the one to take care of Jacob when he needed it, she prided herself immensely on being independent as her father raised her to be.

"I don't think either of us can call ourselves ladies. I spend my days stitching wounds, and if my assumptions are correct, you spend your days inflicting them." Emily handed her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth with and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Lay on your stomach, I know something that will help with the muscle pain that I'm sure you're feeling."

Evie did as she was told, and soon felt Emily's hands working into her back, "And you have no issues with how I spend my days, Ohhhhh."

The moan slipped from her lips before she could stifle it as Emily hit a particularly tight knot in her back, "I didn't know nurses were taught things like this."

Emily worked her down Evie's back and limbs, compressing, pulling, and digging into her body. "They don't, I picked these tricks up while traveling, and as to issues with your chosen occupation, I have none. I have discovered in my travels that there are two ways to contribute to the common welfare. One is to develop the better parts of society, provide people with necessities such as healthcare and food. The other is to remove the more detrimental aspects of society. I understand that to achieve this, more often than not, blood must be spilt."

"A very practical outlook." Mildly surprising, most medical professionals that Evie had met were of the 'do no harm' mode of thought. Understandable, admirable, but not always practically applicable.

"We are practical women, our life is what our thoughts make it after all."

"A quotation of Marcus Aurelius, an indication of a classical education, accompanied by an admission of world travel. Are you keeping secrets from me Miss Lyons?" The question was equal parts playful vitriol and actual curiosity.

"No more than you are keeping from me Miss Frye, no more than you are keeping from me."

 **So what do you think guys, how do you like Emily?**

 **I'm pretty surprised with myself, I've spent the past week playing Fallout 4, but this is the story that drew me to draft another chapter rather than my Fallout story. I kind of like the slow pace of it, and Evie's a rather interesting character to write for.**

 **To Death7559, thanks for your review.**

 **My focus is bouncing around a lot lately, but this one has my focus for now. Let's see how long that lasts.**

 **R &R People.**


	4. Pawn Storm Denied

"Claws? Exactly who in their right mind would choose a set of long claws to serve as their weapon of choice?"

Evie slightly grimaced as the antiseptic was applied to the wounds on her back, "Emily, these men were impersonating a demonic urban legend in order to terrorize the people of Lambeth, I highly doubt the concept of a sound mind ever entered the equation."

"I'm rather surprised that they were able to wound you as badly as they did, your brother is usually the one stumbling in covered in bruises and gashes from head to toe."

It was true, part of their differing styles of combat. Evie preferred isolating her opponents, catching them by surprise, and eliminating them with a single well placed strike. A throwing knife to the back of the skull, a hidden blade to the base of the spine. If a fight went as she preferred, her opponent didn't have time to realize what was happening, much less strike back. That wasn't to say that she couldn't hold her own in a stand up fight, but even when she had to resort to her cane sword, she still preferred to out maneuver her opponents rather than over power them, forcing them into one-on-one fights and picking them off separately.

Jacob was a different matter, whereas Evie did everything she could to avoid getting cornered or surrounded, Jacob reveled in it. He would wade into the middle of the largest knot of opponents he could find, bouncing from opponent to opponent, hacking and slashing with his kukri until he was the only one left standing. He would unleash a barrage of strikes against his opponents, countering the worst of his opponents' attacks while ignoring the minor ones. It was a messy, wild, fighting style that left him covered in blood, his own and his opponents, bruises, and cuts. But even Evie couldn't deny that it worked well for him.

"Jack, or whatever the man in costume's name was, had some sort of extremely potent form of smoke grenades, I had one of the men take those that remained to Mister Bell's workshop. I'll be quite interested to see what he makes of them. They had some form of hallucinogen or sedative in them, combined with a rather powerful explosive for something so small." Evie clenched her teeth as Emily sewed the wounds closed, she could have asked for a light painkiller, but preferred to keep her senses about her.

"Perhaps you should have Jacob's friend Mister Darwin take a look at it." Now that was an odd match, why a man such as Charles Darwin would voluntarily choose to spend time with someone like Jacob was beyond her. She loved her brother, but an intellectual, he was not.

"Perhaps after Mister Bell has finished with it, are you nearly finished?" Evie didn't mean to rush her, but she would prefer to redress as soon as possible. The last thing that she wanted was for Nigel or the driver's apprentice, Bob, to walk in and see her chest in its full glory.

"Nearly, though it's likely that it will scar, I'm amazed that you and your brother don't gain more scars than you do, though they do make you look dashing." That was a gift from their mother, or so their father always told them.

"Is that flattery I detect Emily?"

"And what would I need flattery for, I already have you undressed," Evie experienced a cross between a giggle and a wince as Emily finished the stitching, "There we are."

"Thank you Emily," Evie stood and went to her dresser, retrieving a fresh set of clothing.

"Not a problem, now Miss Frye, I was wondering if you would join me for a drink this evening." Now there was an interesting proposition. Evie couldn't deny that she was attracted to Emily. Between her body, her personality, and her mind, it would be impossible not to be. She just assumed that they were… incompatible.

"First flattery, and now inviting me to a night on the town. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were courting me Miss Lyons." It was as close to an open discussion as they could get without outright admitting their sapphic predilections.

"Perhaps in this case the best outcome is achieved by not knowing better."

For a moment, Evie was rendered speechless at such an open admission. Finally she spoke

"I'll get my coat."

….

And so they did, procuring a carriage from the Rooks pool, and enlisting one of the lower ranking rooks, Nigel Bumble, to serve as a chauffer, the two set off into the night. After finding the dives of Whitechapel not to their liking, the two chose to risk venturing into the Blighter dominated Strand. The Strand, being the heart of London nightlife at the time, offered a bevy of options for the two young women to choose from. They enjoyed a fine dinner at Simpson's, took in a play at the Royal Strand Theater, and ended their evening in a cozy little pub known as the Wolf-and-Sword where they bumped into one of the last people they would have expected to see.

"Mister Wynert, quite a surprise to see you outside of Southwark." Evie motioned for the lithe bodied man to join them at their table.

"Frye, no less surprising to see you so deep in Blighter territory," Ned looked over at Emily, "with company. A pleasure to see you again Miss Lyons."

"You two know each other?" for no particular reason that she could identify, Evie felt an odd pang jealousy. She couldn't explain why, she had no claim to Emily, but she felt it just the same.

"It's quite useful to maintatin a trusted nurse, especially for someone in my particular position." That certainly made sense, despite the fact that the twins deliberately never mentioned it, Wynert was quite obviously… Evie still struggled for the right way to describe it… was not born a man. Having a medical professional he could trust probably saved him a great deal of trouble when he required medical attention, just as it did for Evie, albeit for different reasons.

"If you two will excuse me for a moment, I have to go powder my nose. Would you mind ordering me another drink Evie?" Evie nodded, but couldn't resist watching as Emily walked away.

Stop it, she mentally smacked herself, your acting like Jacob.

"So you and Emily seem very… close." Ned sipped his ale, looking at Evie over the rims of glasses.

"Perhaps, do you have a problem with it?" Evie immediately knew that she had sounded far more defensive than she intended.

Ned gave her a dry look, "Frye, of all the people in London, you expect me to take issue with who you choose to share your bed with."

"We haven't…" Evie stammered, before deciding that particular conversation wasn't one she wished to have currently.

She felt a blush flow across her face as she realized the lunacy of the imagined predjudice. "I apologize Mister Wynert, I sometimes forget that you are…" she caught herself, unsure how to tactfully end the statement.

To her surprise, rather than look angry or annoyed, Wynert chuckled.

"A woman living as a man, it's alright Frye. I'm not insane, I'm perfectly aware that from an entirely medical standpoint, everyone at this table is a woman. I've simply found life as a man to be more to my liking. And kill the Mister Wynert business, call me Wynert, or Ned."

Evie was surprised by the informality of the illegitimate businessman, and was torn between the desire to regain her composure and her own curiosity into their financial consultant.

"Alright Ned, if you don't mind me asking who were you before you became who you are now?" it was a dreadfully personal question, but Evie's innate curiosity got the better of her.

Ned sighed, took off his glasses and began wiping them with a handkerchief he'd retrieved from his suit pocket.

"Henrietta Mary Wynn, youngest daughter of one of New York's premiere families. To a normal girl, my childhood probably would have been idyllic. It was all petticoats, dresses, boys, and balls, everything you'd expect from a high society upbringing. My parents, being part of the new money American gentry, made sure that I was given the best of everything that money could buy. My mother made sure that I wore the finest clothes, had the finest dolls, and was given the finest of teaching etiquette, dancing, and literature. If everything had gone according to plan, I would have gone on to be married off to some prince of American capitalism and have plenty of children. It was as close to a fairy tale life as one can get."

Satisfied they were thoroughly clean, Ned tucked the handkerchief back into his jacket and slid his glasses back on "I hated every moment of it, the dresses felt like personal prisons, the boys treated me as if I were a mare to be broken, and the balls made me feel like a show pony being displayed for potential buyers."

Ned paused as a server came over to their table, Evie ordered a fresh round of drinks.

As the server left, Evie brought the conversation back to the topic at hand, "So you decided to live as a man?"

Ned rolled his eyes slightly, this was a conversation that he'd obviously had before. "There was no moment when I just decided to live as a man, it was more of a constant feeling in the back of my mind that none of it felt right. My mother, coming from an old money southern family, completely rejected the idea that I didn't feel comfortable in my position and insisted that it was just nerves and the feeling would go away. I don't know if she actually believed it or just couldn't bear the idea of the shame it would bring to the family."

"Father was less dismissive, probably because he described himself as an 'up jumped ruffian dedicated to destroying polite society from within'." Ned chuckled at the memory, his eyes going wistful for a moment.

Then, like smoke, the look in his eyes evaporated and he continued his story. "He gained his fortune as a privateer and made a number of wise investments. Old money has never liked new money. He learned of my preferences one day when he inadvertently caught me trying on one of my brothers' suits when I was eight. He asked me what I was doing, I didn't know what else to do, so I told him the truth, that I liked being a boy better than being a girl. He just laughed, shook his head, and said, 'I have three sons, why not another.' Then he just walked out of the room"

The server returned with their drinks, Evie's curiosity was piqued. She knew what Ned was doing, going into great detail about the parts he was comfortable sharing in order to distract her from the more important questions. Before Evie could interject with one of the dozens of questions buzzing in her mind, Ned preempted her with one of his own.

"So, you've heard my story, tell me Frye, what's it like to be raised as an Assassin?"

Jacob, Evie mentally hissed. She would have to have a long talk with him about the third tenet of the creed the next time she saw him. "I'm sure you heard all about it from my brother."

Ned knitted his fingers together, "No actually, he's been tight lipped on the subject."

Evie's eyes widened in shock, "then how…"

Ned didn't miss a beat, "Messages my people intercept when hijacking Blighter shipments, they keep referring to you as 'disruptive Assassin twins,' 'the annoying Assassin bastards of that damn Ethan Frye,' or my personal favorite 'the berk Assassin and his bint sister who keep killing all our boys.' The descriptions varied based on the author, but I did some digging and connections turned up. I don't know what's going on, I just know it's big and you two are dead in the center of it all."

"I'll tell you about the Assassins as soon as you tell me about your friend Mister Worth." Now it was Ned's turn to be surprised. It was a bluff of course, Henry's people hadn't been able to get more than a name, but it seemed to work.

Ned opened his mouth as if to respond, but stopped and closed it again.

Finally a grin spread across his face, "You're more interesting than your brother makes you out to be Frye."

"I'll take that as a compliment," the grin on Evie's face faltered, "Emily has been gone for quite a while now."

The look in Ned's eyes changed to suspicion and a small sense of dread. "In Blighter territory."

In an instant, the two of them were on their feet and moving. Evie's cane sword was in her hand and Ned's hand was tucked into his jacket, obviously clutching a pistol.

It didn't take long for them to see that things had gone wrong. The hallway had obvious signs of a struggle, the signs creating a clear path for them to follow. The signs led down the hall, past the privies, and to a door that opened out into a back alley behind the pub.

"Get 'er into the damn carriage."

Emily was struggling in the grip of one of the larger Blighters, she was surrounded by a half dozen others.

"She's won't stop bloody thrashin', like a bloody demon, she is."

Just as the large man said, Emily was kicking, lunging, and shrieking like a banshee. Even with all the commotion, you'd never hear it over the sound of the busy street or in the packed pub.

The Blighters were so caught up with her that they didn't notice when Evie and Ned stepped out into the alley.

Emily saw them and suddenly stopped struggling, meeting Evie's gaze, she gave a slight nod. There was a small movement of her hand and suddenly the man holding her screamed out in pain and blood bloomed on his trousers.

Evie didn't waste a second, she rushed two of the men. She pulled the top of her cane off and slammed the blade into the back of a man's skull, then spun around striking another man with the cane itself to knock him off balance. She slid the sword into the man's carotid artery, coating the alley in bright red blood.

While that happened, Ned fired off two well aimed shots, each one adding a fresh air way into a Blighter's skull.

Evie returned her focus to Emily, finding her standing in front of the now obviously dead Blighter that had been holding her. The whole affair had lasted less than a minute, except…

There, two women sprinting down the alleyway, they'd realized the skirmish was lost and were fleeing. Undoubtedly to get reinforcements.

"Ned," she said.

"I've got them," He responded, adopting a marksman's stance. He fired one shot, one of the women collapsed. He realigned his aim for the other and fired, but the woman had seen her friend go down and threw herself into a roll. It was a clumsy, amateur, move that most likely broke her wrist, but it worked, the shot went wide. The Blighter turned the corner and disappeared out of sight.

"Damn," Ned said.

"We need to get out of here, She'll have every Blighter in the strand on us in a few minutes." Ned and Emily nodded. Evie grabbed Emily's arm and the three of them sprinted down the alley, emerging into the street.

"Miss Frye, Miss Lyons… Mister Wynert, what are you doing here?" The three of them rushed past Nigel, to the carriage.

"No time for that Bumble, get us to Rook territory, now!" Wynert said as he scrambled onto the perch.

Evie climbed on top of the carriage while Emily slipped inside. Nigel spurred the horses into a trot and the vehicle jolted into motion.

"Faster Nigel, we need to get out of here." Evie crouched low on the roof of the carriage, scanning the street for the impending assault. Nigel whipped the horses into a gallop just as she saw them.

One… two… three of them… No, four carriages, two covered, two open, and all brimming with Blighters. Ned reloaded his pistol and began shooting.

Several of his shots made their mark, sending a number of Blighters tumbling to the cobble stones, but the carriages continued to gain ground.

As the carriages drew closer, Evie got an idea.

"Drop back slightly" she called to Nigel, who did as told. The lad looked terrified, but he was doing his task admirably. He had potential, Evie noted with a hint of pride.

A carriage moved directly behind them, they were trying to box them in. When the enemy was close enough that their horses were less than a foot from the back of the carriage, Evie flattened her hands against the roof and leapt across the gap like a cat.

A perfect jump, she landed on top of the Blighter carriage. Before the driver could react, Evie was upon him, her hidden blade piercing his skull just behind the ear causing immediate death. She slashed the reins in two and tossed them aside, ensuring no other Blighter could climb out of the carriage to regain control of the horses.

With that done, she negotiated her way back across the gap to her allies, using the horse as a stepping stone this time.

Though one carriage was neutralized, another, this one open, had come along side. A thin, spry looking man attempted to recreate Evie's maneuver, leaping from the open topped carriage and gaining a foot hold on the step to the door of the carriage just as Ned sent a bullet through the heart of the driver. The carriage careened away, but the thin man clung to the carriage like a leach to an artery.

Before Evie could move on this man, a shot rang out and his face disintegrated into a bloody mess. The man's death grip on the carriage released and his corpse dropped like a stone.

Evie looked at Ned, but he shook his head, the shot hadn't come from him. The shot had come from within the carriage. Evie leaned down over the edge and found herself staring down the barrel of a Colt Army revolver.

"Why do you have a gun?" Evie asked, shocked.

'Distinctly not the time for this discussion." As if to punctuate Emily's statement, a bullet slammed into the side of the carriage, then another, and another. The last two carriages of Blighters were playing it smarter than their comrades, staying too far away for Evie to board their carriages while using pistols to try and suppress Ned.

"I can't get a decent shot Frye, and if I can't, neither can your girl. You're out in the open, we have to do something." Ned was right, if they didn't do something quickly, Evie was going to get shot.

Thinking quickly, a new plan formed in her mind. She felt inside her coat for the concealed pocket that contained two small orbs, smoke bombs from the would-be jack that she'd kept for herself while Aleck examined the rest. With a carefully aimed throw, she hurled one of the bombs at an enemy carriage.

Success, the bomb landed dead center on the perch of the carriage. It detonated, knocking the driver to his death and obscuring both carriages in smoke. Evie concentrated and let the world fade into hues of black and white. The Blighters gained a bright red glow while their carriages took on a white outline. More importantly, so did their horses.

Evie raised her gauntlet and engaged the mechanism to deploy her grappling hook. She'd never tried to use it this way before, but it was this or get shot. The grappling hook shot out and buried itself in the flank of one of the Blighters' horses, Evie then yanked with all her might, dragging the horse her way…

Success! The horses dragged the driverless carriage front of the other. With one more hard yank, she pulled the hook free from the horse just as the two carriages collided with an explosion of metal and wood smashing and splintering. The hook retracted into her gauntlet with a whir as the crash disappeared from view. The rest of the ride back to Rook territory was uneventful, Evie remained on the roof until they were at the station that served as the next stop for the train.

"You're bleeding Evie," Emily said as they were finally in Evie's quarters once more.

Evie looked down, and sure enough, there was a gash across her arm. One of the bullets must have grazed her, cutting through her sleeve on her upper right arm. The adrenaline was still serving as an anesthetic, preventing her from feeling it. "Oh, so I am. No matter, I believe now would be a better time to answer my question.

"I should dress that wound, I'm out of antiseptic. I saw a medical bag in your brother's compartment, it most likely has a bottle. I'll go and retrieve it." Emily slipped out of the room.

Evie turned to Ned, "Do you know why she has a gun?"

Ned shrugged, "Not specifically, but I can hazard a guess. She's a nurse on retainer to the biggest fence in London, and two up and coming gang leaders. I'd certainly keep a weapon at the ready, wouldn't you?"

Yes, Evie thought, she never went anywhere without a weapon as it was. But that still left questions, where did she learn how to use it, where did she get the American weapon, and how did she kill the Blighter that had been holding her. There hadn't been a gun shot in the alley other than those fired by Ned.

"I've got to get going, business to handle, shipments to move. Pay me a visit at my office sometime, I'll introduce you to my tailor. Seems like you could use some new equipment." With a tip of his hat, Ned was off and moving. Stepping out of the compartment and into the station.

"Evie," came Emily's voice, the tone oddly serious, "I need you to answer something honestly for me."

Evie turned and saw Emily standing in the door way, a medical bag in her hand. She saw the inscription on the handle and cursed.

"Why does your brother have Doctor Elliotson's bag?"

 **This was a pretty long chapter for this story, and it had a lot more action in it. Most of these chapters will probably stay close to the one to two thousand word mark. But give me your opinions, how'd it turn out?**

 **Oh and what did you guys think of Ned, I love his character, but it is just so heavily glossed over in the game, which I have mixed feelings about. He, like Evie, didn't get near the coverage he should have.**

 **Give me some opinions people.**


	5. An Informative (and Romantic) Interlude

"Evie, why does your brother have Doctor Elliotson's bag?"

Evie's mind scrambled for a proper response, but one would not come. Why did Jacob even have that damn bag. You didn't take souvenirs from assassinations as public as Elliotson's had been.

Emily knew that the twins killed people, she even acknowledged the odd morality of it. But Evie couldn't explain why Elliotson, who, while not being a reputable physician, was still viewed as a morally upright human being, fit into their ethical model.

Not without violating The Creed.

"Evie," Emily stepped forward and locked eyes with her, "Why did Jacob kill Doctor Elliotson?"

What in god's name could she tell her? Evie always had a plan, always had another move to make, but this left her paralyzed. Never compromise the Brotherhood, third tenant, she couldn't allow someone outside of the brotherhood to be aware of their actions, that left her with one option. She couldn't do that though, not only because of the growing level of affection she had for Emily, but also because it violated the first tenant, stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent.

Evie's pondering of the higher level philosophy of The Creed was interrupted thanks to Jacob deciding now was the perfect time to pop into his sister's car.

Jacob strolled in with the swagger of a second drink buzz and, brushing aside notes and books, took a seat on Evie's desk.

"Well, Nigel tells me you ladies have had a hell of a night out, I'm almost jealous." Jacob being Jacob, he was either oblivious to, or completely ignoring, the tension in the room.

Evie gritted her teeth, furious at Jacob for keeping the bag and putting her into this position. "Hello Jacob," she said, trying to keep her composure.

"Emily was just asking me why you have John Elliotson's medical bag."

Jacob didn't miss a beat as Emily turned to him, "the short version is that I needed something to hit one of those orderlies with on my way out and that was the closest thing to grab."

Not put off by Jacob's nonchalant demeanor, Emily pressed on, "I'm going to need more information."

Jacob flicked his wrist, displaying his blade, "The long version is that I snuck into the asylum and stabbed him in the head because he was an evil prig who was part of a group of evil prigs called Templars."

"Jacob!" Evie yelled angrily.

"What? She already knows what we do, does it really matter if she knows why? Because your courting her?"

Evie's face flushed, "Because it violates the third tenant of the Creed. And I am not courting her"

Emily nodded in agreement, "yes, if anything, I'm the one courting her.

Evie's face flushed even more at the open acknowledgement of their courtship. Jacob was well aware of her predilections, but she still preferred to keep her romantic life private.

Though, the Assassin in her said, it could prove a decent way to divert the conversation away from the Brotherhood.

Seizing the opportunity, Evie decided to pursue personal embarrassment over possibly disobeying the creed.

"You feel that way toward me Emily?" Evie said with mock surprise.

Emily looked at her with a mixture of affection and suspicion.

"Of course I do, I have done everything but compose a romantic ballad. But that is a discussion we shall have without your brother present. And after someone elaborates more on these Templars and why Doctor Elliotson's membership warranted his death."

Evie sighed and, seeing no other option, and considering that Jacob had already given Emily enough get herself killed with any form of independent inquiry, decided to capitulate.

"Alright," She said, "Jacob, have Nigel fix some cocoa, we'd best sit down, it is a long story."

….

Emily dressed Evie's wound, and Evie told her everything she knew, the history of the Brotherhood and its war with the Templar Order, the pieces of Eden, and the twins' contemporary operations in London.

Emily took it all in from where she sat on Evie's bed, she remained stoically calm, only speaking to ask the occasional question or for a point to be clarified.

Finally, Evie finished her tale leaned forward, resting her chin in her dominant hand in the habit of her father. Jacob hadn't moved from his positon on her desk, but even he looked for Emily's reaction with a vague interest.

"So," Emily said, "tell me if I have this right, two ancient secret societies have been at war for all of known history."

"Yes," Evie said with a nod.

"And this war has shaped almost every major event in recent memory, including the American, Haitian, and French revolutions, as well as much of ancient history."

Evie nodded again.

"And the Templars have held London as their stronghold for the past hundred years, infiltrating every branch of society and using their agents to dominate it. Doctor Elliotson was their man in charge of controlling the medical field and distributing the tonic known as 'Soothing Syrup' to keep the lower classes in check."

Evie pointed to a notebook sitting on her desk, "Mister Darwin forwarded me his notes on the composition of the syrup, Datura and opium being two of the most dangerous components. It's over there if you'd like a look."

Emily nodded appreciatively, "So the Blighters serve as the Templars' foot soldiers, which is why you formed the Rooks, and your purpose for operating in London is to destroy the Templar network and kill the man at its head, Crawford Starrick."

Jacob decided this was the time to interject, "Well, that's what I'm doing, Evie and Greenie spend their time hunting some bauble and getting chased out of places by Lucy Thorne."

Evie levelled a glare at her twin, "The shroud is not a bauble and I've told you, it wasn't the time or the place to confront Thorne at the Kenway mansion."

"You had your blade and were in the same building as her, seems the perfect time and place to me." Jacob's spat the words out like bile.

"Enough of this, we're not having this argument again." Evie redirected her focus back to Emily. She half expected the woman to call them lunatics and run for the police. But the odd thing was that Emily didn't seem shocked or appalled, she seemed deep in thought.

Finally, Emily spoke again, "What does the Templar insignia look like?"

Jacob pulled a ring from his pocket and tossed it in Emily's lap, "Here, grabbed it off of Elliotson when he was done singing Starrick's praises."

Evie renewed her glare at Jacob, just how many souvenirs did he take from that operation.

"Thank you," Emily stared hard at the red cross on the ring, remaining quiet for several minutes.

"So you think we're bleeding barmy yet?" Jacob asked with a laugh.

"No it actually makes quite a few things I've run into in my travels make sense. I saw this same ring on the finger of a well known actor I bumped into three years ago during my time in America, at a performance of Our American Cousin." Emily set the ring on Evie's bedside table.

"Well, now that that's all settled, me and the lads have some business to take care of, night all," and like that, before Evie could stop him, Jacob was out of the compartment and disappeared into the night.

Evie stood and turned back to Emily, finding her with a rather salacious grin on her face, turning off the gaslights.

"Now," Emily said as the darkness descended around them, moving closer and leaning in so that her lips were inches from Evie's.

"About that other discussion." Emily's lips met Evie's and she felt Emily's hand on the back of her head pushing the kiss deeper, Evie returned the kiss fully, the embrace becoming more passionate by the second.

And thus began the third and, most enjoyable, final act of a very long and physically taxing night.

 **This is just a sort of epilogue to my last chapter. I don't care for it, it feels heavy handed to me. Not to mention the lack of originality, a lot of it is spent explaining things that the average AC fanfic reader already knows, but it needed to be explained to Emily eventually and I kind of just wanted it out of the way, and it helps for readers like Spikesagitta who haven't played the game.**

 **On the bright side, it got two of the most annoying obstacles of this story out of the way, the actualization of the Emily/Evie relationship. I despise dancing around issues, but the secretiveness of the Assassin Brotherhood and the prudishness of the Victorian Era forced me to.**

 **I really should stop using these notes to self critique, that's what you guys are for.**

 **And to any who might be wondering, no Christmas chapters, it wouldn't fit the AC Syndicate timeline.**

 **Oh, yeah, and just so you guys know, I'm running out of chess themed chapter titles so I might have to change that, ideas?**

 **Read and Review people, and happy holidays.**


	6. The Innocence of Children

Stay my blade from the blood of the innocent.

Hide in plain sight.

Never compromise the brotherhood

Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted.

Freedom

These were the words the Brotherhood were built on.

The Creed seemed so simple at first glance. The Tenets seemed less of a philosophy and more like ground rules for successful operations. The Maxim held a far deeper meaning than could be explained in a short discussion. The Creed was more complicated than could probably be comprehended by a mind younger than quarter century.

The three great ironies of the Creed came to mind.

Peace, through murder.

The opening of minds, through obedience to the rules of the Order.

Combating blind faith, by practicing it.

The contradictions were supposed to be embraced, as evidence 'that one may be two things- opposite in every way- simultaneously.'

Peace, through murder. Killing Elliotson hadn't brought any peace, it had brought chaos. How far did the first tenant extend. Was the first tenant broken because of the destruction of the healthcare network? Doubtless plenty of innocents had died during the gap between Elliotson's death and when Miss Nightingale's work in Lambeth began.

And what of the third tenant? Had they violated the third tenant by bringing Emily in on the secret war? Had they violated the Creed simply by coming to London against the wishes of George and the Assassin Council?

"The Creed, the Pieces of Eden, or your family?"

The source of the half asleep whisper tightened her arms around Evie's waist. Reminding Evie of the reason for the pleasant ache in her muscles.

"Whatever do you mean?" Evie asked, feigning ignorance.

"There are only three things that keep you awake after an engagement, especially one as vigorous as tonight, the Creed, the Pieces, or your family. Do you want to talk about it?" The concern in Emily's voice was touching, but Evie wasn't exactly comfortable discussing the inner workings of the Creed with someone outside of the Brotherhood, even someone who knew about the Assassins and Templars and their war.

Even someone she shared her bed with.

"No, not tonight Emily, Thank you, but no."

Emily shrugged, or at least Evie felt like she did. "Alright." The drowsiness seemed to be slipping out of Emily's voice now.

Within an instant, the coverlet was off and Emily was on all fours, pinning Evie's arms to the bed and staring down at her with that salacious little grin of hers. Evie was gladdened by the fact that the compartment doors were firmly locked and the shades on the windows drawn. The last thing they needed was for someone to see both of their bodies on full display.

"Then how about taking your mind off of it?" Evie felt Emily bring her knee up to put pressure on a spot that elicited a small moan from Evie. She made a show of struggling against Emily's grip before apparently giving up and resigning herself to her fate. It was all part of the game, Evie knew that she could easily break the hold and turn the tables on Emily, or just a simple no and the matter would end.

But that would ruin the game.

Emily had a dominant streak in the bedroom, as Evie had quickly discovered. And, to her own surprise, Evie found a certain enjoyment in letting someone else take control, at least in this small but oh-so-important part of her life.

Evie bit her lower lip ever so slightly to force herself away from the delightful sensations she was now feeling and back to the here-and-now.

She smiled serenely, let pondering the higher philosophies of the Brotherhood go for another night, she had far more… pressing issues to attend to.

"Yes Mistress."

….

Sunlight fought to pierce the shades drawn over the windows as Evie halfway opened her eyes. Emily, still asleep, held her in a tight embrace. Nights like the previous one had not been a rare occurrence in the past few weeks, a bright spot in a sea of frustration. Her search for the Shroud had stagnated, she had gone through old Assassin safe houses, bolt holes, and vaults throughout London. She had exhausted the list recovered from the Kenway vault, still, she found nothing. Jacob had run into a similar problem with his pursuit of the Templars of London. Mister Green's contacts were also coming up with nothing on both fronts, no news on the Shroud or the Templars.

Thus the twins were forced to find ways of occupying their time while they awaited new intelligence. Jacob used his time to establish himself even further as an underworld figure, becoming the man to beat in the fight clubs and carriage races of the city and seizing shipments of Blighter cargo throughout the city for Ned Wynert.

Mister Wynert had taken an even greater role within the affairs of the twins, working with Evie to establish shell companies to hide their illicit income, strengthen ties with black market merchants, and expand their legitimate businesses.

When not working with Ned, Evie spent her time with Emily, or with Mister Dickens pursuing Ghost Club investigations. Emily didn't share her bed every night, but the nights she did so in the past few weeks outnumbered the nights where she did not. Whenever she did share her bed, a night of extreme physical exertion was inevitable.

Whether it was because of the long period of stagnation or the comfortable drowsiness, or even the beautiful woman whose arms she was currently wrapped up in, she still refused to excuse herself for not noticing the girl earlier.

She was a tiny thing, thin as a rail, dirty faced and dressed in serviceable, albeit heavily patched, clothing. Her features were Egyptian, dark brown skin, dirty black hair, but the most startling feature about the girl had to be her huge honey-brown eyes.

No, a small voice in the back of her head screamed, the most startling thing about her is her current location.

Evie kept her voice calm and patronizing, not wanting to frighten the child. "Hello there, how long have you been here?"

"Few minutes, had to pick the lock, was not sure if I should wake you up." She spoke in slow, accented but clear, English. She'd most likely recently learned the language from someone with an upper class London accent, but was still trying to make sure she didn't make a mistake.

"Did Clara send you?" It was the most obvious explanation. Evie felt Emily stir behind her.

"Yes, she told me to give you this." The young urchin proffered a small folded piece of stationary.

The handwriting was surprisingly good, it was practically calligraphy.

 _Miss Frye,_

 _I require your assistance in settling a simple matter that has led to a small dispute between myself and Sergeant Abberline._

 _Please come to the address provided with all due haste._

 _Thank you,_

 _C. O'Dea_

Evie set the note on her bedside table and returned her attention to the girl.

Emily sat up behind her, letting the coverlet fall and exposing her chest, she too directed her attention to the girl, "Hello sweetie, may I ask what you're doing here?".

The girl looked at Emily with an odd, curious, stare for a moment, then looked back at Evie.

"Thank you for giving me this dear." Evie sat up, bunching the coverlet up to cover her chest unlike her lover. "Go to Agnes in the next car and she'll give you a guinea."

The little girl's eyes lit up and she darted out of the car. Evie stood and went to her armoire to get dressed.

"A guinea tip for a messenger, very charitable of you." Emily reached for her bag to retrieve her own clothing for the day.

"She needs it, and besides that, she was able to slip close enough to slit both of our throats without being noticed. She deserves a reward for that." Evie slid her coat on and began strapping on her blade

"It is a rather impressive feat, even I can't manage that. How old do you think she is, couldn't be more than five or six." Emily slid her revolver into a hidden pocket of her dress and a very long, very sharp, needle into her sleeve. A habit she had picked up in the Orient, she had told Evie. It was how she had killed the Blighter behind the Wolf-and-Sword, a quick stab to the femoral artery.

"Probably that, most likely one of the children freed by a factory raid. I'd assume her parents either died or abandoned her when they couldn't afford to feed her." The Blighters treated orphanages like auction houses, buying children in the same way one used to buy slaves.

"And on the street already, poor thing." Emily retrieved a brush from her bag and began running it through her long blonde hair, she rarely styled it, preferring instead to simply brush it out and let it fall to her shoulders.

"A shame, but still better than being trapped in a factory as a slave. And she has Clara looking out for her, which is a lot more than can be said for many of the children in London." Evie began setting her hair into its usual bun.

She did everything she could to aid the children, planning and executing factory raids with the Rooks, and supplying Clara's organization with a significant amount of funds. Though Ned was always quick to point out that these factory raids were quite profitable to the Rooks. Aside from the moral and humane benefits, the raids usually resulted in the business going up for sale, where they could quickly be snapped up for cheap and drawn under the banner of Wynert & Co. The principal front company for the Rooks, and therefore the twins.

"What did the message say?" Using a hand mirror and a set of tweezers, Emily plucked her eyebrows.

"Apparently Clara and Sergeant Abberline are in dispute over something at a brewery in Whitechapel. She wants my assistance in resolving the matter." Evie slid her kukri into an ankle sheathe and tucked her revolver into a shoulder holster

"Sounds rather intriguing, I wouldn't picture those two in a disagreement. Possibly the pickpocketing, but that's nothing compared to the grand schemes that Ned arranges." Emily double checked her medicine bag and made sure all of her instruments and medicines were in their proper places.

"Possibly, if so then it will be easily remedied. A simple exchange of a larger fish will convince him to ignore a few pickpocketing complaints. Do you have any appointments today?" As Evie was quickly discovering, Emily wasn't a normal nurse. She occasionally did rounds at the asylum, but most of her duties were more in line with a standard physician. She seemed to serve as a doctor to the underworld, a liaison between Miss Nightingale and the criminal networks of the city.

"My only appointment is with a smuggler named Will Zhang, but that is not until this evening. I'm free for the day." Emily stepped behind Evie and wrapped her arms around Evie's waist and resting her head on her shoulder.

"And what does Mister Zhang smuggle exactly?" Evie was fully aware that the range of criminals in London was rather vast. The most scrupulous were the Rooks, the worst were the Blighters, and a huge divide in between. The man could be as trustworthy as Ned or a step above Rexford Kaylock. In the latter case, Evie would much prefer Emily take a body guard.

"Opium mostly, but he's also able to procure a number of other medicinal substances. He's a brilliant smuggler apparently, but he has more money than brains when it comes to women, and thus is continually suffering from one venereal malady or another, he's a regular patient whenever he's in town. To provide the poor with free healthcare, we must extort the criminal elements." It wasn't the first time that Emily had said that, it seemed like a sort of mantra.

"Well then, would you care to join me in resolving this 'small matter'?" Evie smiled, hiding her relief that this Zhang was a regular customer. She knew Emily could take care of herself, but she was no Assassin.

"I thought you'd never ask, darling." Emily planted a swift peck on her cheek and stepped away from the embrace. "I'll have Nigel get some breakfast and tell him to ready a carriage when we reach the next station."

….

A half hour later, after enjoying a hearty breakfast procured by Nigel from a venerable coffee house along the train's route, they were on their way to the brewery in Whitechapel.

The air was cold, London was having trouble shaking off winter as it entered March and a layer of frost still covered the city. At the reins, Nigel kept a scarf wrapped around his face while inside the carriage, Emily and Evie cuddled together under a heavy blanket.

Evie knew from the moment they arrived that this was not going to be a simple matter of bartering with Sergeant Abberline to get him to ignore some minor complaints. There were at least a dozen constables and a police wagon in front of the brewery.

Evie and Emily stepped out of the carriage and told Nigel to return in an hour, then, wrapping their coats tighter around themselves, walked up to the police perimeter.

They immediately found a man in a grey suit and top hat and a young man in a bowler hat.

"What is going on here?" Evie decided that it would be helpful to get the lay of the land before confronting Sergeant Abberline and Clara.

"Ah, the charming and delightful Miss Evie Frye and Doctor Emily Lyons." The man didn't seem familiar, Evie scanned her memory for any previous encounters.

"I'm afraid you have it wrong sir, I'm a nurse, not a doctor," Emily corrected him.

"Have we met before?" Evie was sure that they hadn't, but was eager to see if the man would lie.

"Mister Raymond knows everyone, he knows everything about this city! He writes it all up in his books." The lad had a peculiar air to him, he didn't appear to be Raymond's son, but his clothing was too nice to be one of Clara's children.

"I'm Henry Raymond. Writer of third rate, lurid, stories. Penny dreadfuls, if you will. And this is little Artie." Raymond gave a small bow as he introduced himself. A showman, clearly.

"Mister Raymond takes real murders and makes them so awfully exciting. The guilty always get caught!" Ahh, now it made sense, the boy was a fan, hanging on to his favorite author.

"There's one unfolding just here." Before Raymond could say any more, he was interrupted by the call of a young girl.

"Miss Frye!" Evie saw Clara standing next to Sergeant Abberline, who appeared even more exasperated than usual.

"Excuse us Mister Raymond." Evie stepped around Raymond with Emily in tow.

"You sent for them, of course you sent for them." Sergeant Abberline held his head in his hands.

"What this about a murder?" Clara quickly stepped behind the two women. It could have been a simple move of a child hiding behind the two older women, but Evie knew Clara better than that. It was a clear statement to Abberline that Evie and Emily were on her side.

"Miss Frye, I have no wish to break the working relationship we have established, but I cannot simply ignore this murder." Then in a lower voice he said, "I have enough trouble cleaning up after your brother Miss Frye. The victim had no connection to the Blighters or the masters for whom they serve. The Rooks weren't involved, it was just an ordinary murder."

Then he drew himself to his full height, stating with all the confidence he could muster, "I'm sorry Miss Frye, but I have to draw the line somewhere."

"You are correct Sergeant, this is an ordinary murder, but as I have said Dooley is not the murderer." Clara spoke with a self-assured, confident, tone. Most likely helped in no small way by the well-armed gang leader standing beside her.

"Everyone calm down for a moment and explain to us exactly what happened." Emily placed a hand on Clara's shoulder.

Abberline massaged his temples, the whole affair clearly starting to get to him. "Alright, Mister Freems, the owner, arrived this morning and found the foreman, a man by the name of Wilkins, dead. The lad Dooley was at the scene of the crime with blood on his hands. It's a simple cut and dried murder."

Evie looked down at Clara, "What's your interest in this matter Clara?"

"As you know," Clara started, once again speaking less like a child and more like a barrister. "I do not approve of child labor, but if they are treated well, and if they are paid fair wages, it is a necessary evil I can allow. A few of my older people volunteer to take jobs and contribute to the communal fund of Babylon Alley. Dooley and his brother are two such volunteers. Up until recently this particular business has been one of the best in terms of treating my people with respect. However, there have been reports to me, that a man named Coulton has started beating their young workers. During one of these instances, Dooley was knocked unconscious and when he awoke, the man was dead, his work knife was gone, and his hands were bloody."

Then, putting an extra bit of steel into her voice, she reiterated, "Dooley did not kill him."

Abberline put his hands up defensively, "I'm not saying the lad didn't have his reasons, but it's still against the law."

Looking from Clara to Abberline, Evie said, "Sergeant, let us have a look around and see if we can't find something to exonerate this Dooley."

Abberline looked pensive for a moment, if it had been Jacob asking, he probably wouldn't agree to it, but then again, Jacob wouldn't have even asked. Finally deciding that he didn't want to sour his relationship with the more cooperative of the twins.

"Alright, I can give you a half hour, but after that I have to bring the lad in."

Evie nodded, "Emily, take Clara and question the owner and the workers. The sergeant and I will go have a look at the body."

Emily followed Clara to where a man in a suit, while Abberline led Evie to a quiet corner of the brewery. The high stacks of barrels created a sort of walled courtyard and in the center of it, a man lay with a rag over his face.

"I respect Clara's aims and what she does for the other children, but it's times like this that make me want to roust her from her Babylon Alley den and pack her and her lot off to a reformatory in the country. Might do them a whole lot of good." Abberline leaned against one of the stacks, allowing Evie to begin her examination. On first glance, Abberline's conclusion was well supported. A stab wound in the man's chest consistent with that of a working knife, signs of a scuffle with small boot prints near the corpse, and a nearby notice nailed to a wall corroborated that the Babylon Alley Society had taken issue with the business practices of the brewery.

"Sergeant Abberline, I would firmly recommend against that course of action. I have seen those so-called 'reformatories'. They do no good for anyone." The headmaster of one of those veiled prisons had been a Templar using the facility to indoctrinate youths sent his way. That was put to an end with a swift strike from Evie's hidden blade.

The obvious evidence may have supported Abberline's theory, but closer inspection by a trained killer quickly revealed the truth of the matter.

"Sergeant, the boy is innocent." A close look at the wound immediately exonerated Dooley.

"I knew it." Evie turned to see Emily and Clara standing at one of the entrances to the courtyard.

Emily immediately joined Evie examing the body. "We spoke to Freems, Dooley, the brother Buck, and a few of the workers. Apparently it's incredibly unusual that Wilkins would be beating one of the children, he's gotten into a few fights preventing others from doing so. We also found this."

Emily handed her a small workman's knife, Evie turned it over to find a small D carved into it.

"Miss Frye, what makes you say the boy is innocent?"

Evie pointed to the knife wound, "Look at the angle of the wound. The blade came in at a downward angle. That means the attacker used an over hand strike, meaning that the attacker had to be taller than the victim."

Abberline looked skeptical for a moment, "How can you tell?"

Evie looked at him sharply, "Sergeant, I am a bit of an expert in the art of taking lives."

Abberline blushed slightly, remembering exactly who he was speaking to. "Apologies Miss Frye."

Evie nodded and pointed to set of tracks leading away from the body. "There's also a fresh set of footprints over there that don't match the others."

Abberline looked surprised, having not noticed the difference.

"Sergeant," Emily politely suggested, "perhaps you and Clara should go and tell the constables that Dooley has been exonerated. Miss Frye and I will continue the investigation."

Abberline looked apprehensive, but Clara was already off and on her way.

"I'd get after her Sergeant, if one of the constables loses his temper and smacks her, she'll be back with a dozen Rooks and fire in her eyes." Evie did her best to hide the amused half grin on her face. Terror dawned in Abberline's eyes and he rushed off after her.

Emily chuckled, "You're terrible."

Evie looked at her, no longer even trying to hide her grin, "I know, the man is doing his best, but he's still trying to make the evidence fit his original theory and I would rather finish this quickly."

They followed the trail to brewery building where they found cigarette stubs. A man in the coal yard informed him that Wilkins was working with him outside before running off to investigate a scuffle, confirming that he had not been the one who was beating Dooley and meaning that he had no reason to be wearing a bandana over his face. He also pointed them in the direction of a man named Morris who informed them that he had seen Coulton, the man who was apparently beating the child laborers, leave the brewery to smoke a cigarette.

Evie scribbled all of this down in her notebook, she felt like she had a good idea who the murderer was, all that was left to do was confront the man. She sent Emily to get the constables and went to speak to Tom Coulton.

"Excuse me, Mister Coulton, could I speak to you for a moment?" She approached the man with her kukri held in a reverse grip, hidden from view. If his recent success as a killer made him bold, he would regret it soon, but he would not regret it long.

"Yeah, what do you want?" He was taller than the victim, meaning he could have made the strike.

"You left the brewery earlier to smoke, correct?" Evie looked down, the man had been pacing, and his shoes left imprints in the dirt. Imprints that matched those found near the cigarette stubs and the body.

"I was workin' in the brewery, but I don't smoke." Liar, she thought.

"Are you certain, because a number of other men saw you smoking earlier and these were found nearby." She showed him the cigarette butts. The man looked even more angry than he had been. Good, she was on the right track.

"Alright, so I smoke, what's it matter?" Out of the corner of her eye, Evie saw Emily and Sergeant Abberline approaching, accompanied by several burly constables.

Evie decided now was as good a time as any. "It matters because you killed John Wilkins. You were beating Dooley when Wilkins arrived and tried to stop you. You and Wilkins have come to blows in the past, maybe he's even threatened to have you fired. So you took advantage of the opportunity presented and stabbed him in the chest, then you covered his face with your bandana and fled the scene. Then when you got back to the brewery, you had a few cigarettes to calm your nerves and give yourself an alibi for leaving the brewery."

The man threw himself at her and screamed, Evie easily sidestepped the charge and he landed firmly in the grasp of two large constables.

"I should be foreman here! Wilkins coddled the boys like a mother hen. He come along and stops me givin' the boy a beatin' he rightly deserved!" The man called he was dragged off by the constables.

"I can't thank you enough for your assistance Miss Frye. I have to admit, I was wrong. I looked at the obvious and came to the first logical solution without bothering to search for another." Sergeant Abberline extended one hand and held his hat in the other.

"No trouble Sergeant, you looked at the matter with the eyes of a policeman, I looked at it with the eyes of an Assassin. You simply needed another perspective." Evie accepted the handshake

"Well, I suppose I'd best go and apologize to Clara before she unleashes all manner of nasty pranks upon me in recompense." Abberline gave a nod and a tip of his hat and headed off to deal with the booking of the killer.

Emily turned to Evie and offered her arm, "So Miss Frye, shall we move on to our next appointment of the day?"

Evie grinned back at her, and hooked her arm around Emily's.

"Of course Doctor Lyons."

 **Okay guys, another long one. I like how this one began, but I feel like the murder investigation felt clunky.**

 **Oh, and for those who haven't read AC Underworld, Abberline knows about the Templars, he was involved with a conflict between Templars and Assassins, other participants included Ethan Frye, father of the notorious twins, Crawford Starrick, and Henry Green. I'm not using all of the stuff from the book because some aspects conflict with the game, but I am keeping that.**

 **I love the Dreadful Crimes, but I'm thinking that I'll try and toss in a few of my own murder mysteries.**

 **Oh, and I've run out of chess themed titles, for now, so I'm dropping that naming theme for a while.**

 **R &R people.**


	7. A Very Long Night

Almost done for the evening, Emily thought with relief.

She sometimes forgot how taxing it was to actually do her rounds at the asylum. It was a rare occurrence for her to actual complete the duties of a standard nurse, usually she spent her time acting as liaison to Miss Nightingale's less reputable contacts and clientele. Today was one of those rare days where her duties were more in line with the other nurses who worked under Miss Nightingale. She almost preferred to deal with the criminals, they showed her more respect than most of her current patients at the asylum. At the very least she had an evening with Evie to look forward to.

She was on her way out of the asylum when she made her usual stop to check on the children that frequented the area around the hospital. She found them playing in their usual alley.

"Miss Lyons!" one of the younger girls sprinted toward her and wrapped her little arms around Emily's waist.

"Glad to see you ma'am" said one of the older boys. The other children all expressed similar sentiments.

"Good to see you to Elizabeth, and you too Thomas. Are you all doing alright, any illness? Do you all have a warm place to sleep at night?" Emily couldn't help but dote, she loved children.

"Of course Miss Lyons, Clara makes sure of that." It was then that she noticed that there were a few faces missing from the usual assortment of urchins.

"Thomas," she said to the defacto leader of this band of irregulars. "Where is Charity, or Nicholas?"

The grimy faced twelve year old touched his cap with a sour expression. "Don't quite know ma'am, haven't seen 'em in a while. Heard they got taken in by some couple."

Emily smiled, though it was a tad unsure. If they had been adopted by some nice family, that was wonderful, but if not, well, it wouldn't be the first time workhouses had lured children in with that sort of tactic. "Well, if you hear from them or if you run into any trouble, just come to the asylum or drop word with Clara."

Tom nodded, "a'course ma'am."

Emily ruffled Elizabeth's hair and made to leave, "Please take good care of yourselves."

She made her way back to the asylum, the fate of Charity and Nicholas sticking in her mind, where Nigel was waiting with a coach. "Long day Miss?"

Emily stepped up onto the coach, holding at the door and making a quick decision "Yes, but it's not over yet, take me to Seven Dials, I'll give you the address when we get there."

Nigel looked back at her in surprise, "Ma'am, that isn't exactly a place for a lady to be after dark."

Emily offered him a grin and a wink, "then it's a good thing I'm no lady," then she disappeared into the coach.

She set her medical bag on the floor and drew a blanket around herself, enjoying the warmth and the reassuring weight of her pistol.

The ride to Seven Dials went by quickly. Once there, Emily gave Nigel directions to an opium den. It belonged to one of her clients.

The coach pulled up in front of a decrepit old house sandwiched between two similarly decrepit and old houses. She picked up her bag and stepped out into the evening air

"Wait here Nigel, are you armed?" the boy nodded, "Good, if anyone gives you trouble mention my name, if they don't give in, make use of your pistol."

Nigel nodded again, though his eyes betrayed his nerves.

Emily stepped up to the door of the opium den, where a rather large man with a thick handlebar mustache answered the door. He took in the tall young blonde woman standing in front of him. Probably thinking that it must be some kind of trick, Emily did not fit the mold for the normal clientele of this establishment.

Emily smiled, displaying a set of perfect white teeth and further putting the man on edge, she definitely did not fit the bill of an opium addict. "I'm here to see Lucius Jones, tell him that Emily Lyons wishes to speak with him about his condition."

The man abruptly slammed the door, Emily waited five minutes, then the door opened again. Revealing the man again, "Mister Jones will see you now," and motioned for her to follow.

She stepped in after him and he slammed the door behind them. The inside was no different than the last time she saw it, cheap beds and couches spread throughout the room with men high on cheap opium laying on top of them enjoying the company of cheap women. The behemoth led her up the stairs to the third floor of the house, where a man in an expensive suit lounged on an expensive couch with two undoubtedly expensive women. Emily wondered idly if he'd informed them of his condition.

But what caught her eye and made her blood boil was the little scantily dressed six year old Egyptian girl with fresh bruises all over her body. It was the same girl that had delivered the message to the train about the factory murder.

"Miss Lyons, always a pleasure to see you." Lucius grinned and clapped his hands dismissing his associates, the girls got up from the couch and left the room.

"Mister Stewart informs me that you want to discuss my condition, while I appreciate your effort, I have already arranged for a treatment, after tonight, my suffering shall be at an end." He motioned towards the girl.

Emily felt an incredible urge to pull out her pistol and create a fresh hole right between Lucius's shifty little eyes. Instead, she forced herself not to look at the girl, and to smile.

"Good to see you too Lucius, and don't tell me you really believe that old myth about virgins curing syphilis." Emily hated that myth, it helped no one.

Lucius shrugged, "It's better than what any of the doctors I've spoken to have to offer. And you have not gotten back to me on that special oriental elixir that you promised." His eyebrows arched, "unless that's what this is about."

Emily pulled a flask out of her bag and placed it on the table. "The finest medicine in the world, , distilled in the White Crane Temple."

Lucius licked his lips, "How much?"

Emily looked over at the girl, and realized that the wide eyed look in the girl's eyes wasn't fear, it was fury. And what she'd taken as sobbing was actually a hushed series of curses in Arabic. Emily felt a bloom of pride in her chest at the girl's defiance. "Her, and information on where you got her."

Lucius scowled, "Can't give you that love, I can give you anything else, but not that. If you're looking for girls, take Anne or Eliza, or one of my other bints, but I made promises to the people I got little Hathor from. And they are the kind of people that send you to the bottom of the Thames if you break your promises."

Emily shook her head, "It's her or nothing. Lucius, you're the biggest flesh trader in the east end, you know who I'm after, and if you want the cure for your syphilis, you'll give me a name."

Lucius swept his arms out, "Well, I've already got her to deal with my condition," He motioned towards the girl, "And besides, she may not be a virgin after tonight, but once I've properly broken her, she'll make me a quite a few quid as she grows up. There are plenty of men, and even some women, who'll pay plenty for a roll with a nipper. Even more who'll pay for one like her."

Emily eased the needle out of her sleeve and into her fist. "I'm not leaving without what I came for."

The flesh trader just shook his head and crossed his arms. "Well," he motioned for Stewart to grab her, "I guess you're not leaving. I'm kind of glad, I've wanted to break you since the day I met you."

Emily had anticipated this, she spun around, throat punching Stewart with her needle hand, piercing his jugular. She finished the spin and drew her pistol in one smooth move, leveling the gun at Lucius as Stewart collapsed behind her.

"If you scream, you die, sit down." Lucius did as he was told. Emily planted a foot on the throat of the steadily bleeding Stewart and pressing down with her full weight.

"Now, as soon as Mister Stewart is good and truly dead, you and I are going to have a long conversation."

Lucius looked at her, with fear dawning in his eyes, and visibly gulped. Emily only looked back at him with a dark grin. She would see to the girl first, but once that was squared away…

Then she would give this man exactly what he deserved.

….

Lucius lasted longer than she had expected, it took her a full half hour to get the information out of him. Medical knowledge was a double edged sword, it could be used to heal, but with the right tools, an academic level of knowledge in anatomy could be turned to far darker purposes. It wasn't her favorite way to spend her time but she got what she wanted.

She'd been planning this man's death since their first appointment, he disgusted her on more levels than she was able to tolerate. This wasn't how she'd intended it, nor was it as soon as she'd planned, but the circumstances had forced her hand.

She'd given the girl a quick medical examination before starting on Lucius. Thankfully, other than the results of what had to have been a number of severe beatings, she appeared to be relatively intact. One of the first things that she'd ensured during her interrogation was that Lucius had not enacted his plans yet, luckily for him, he hadn't. Emily had placed the girl on a couch in the anteroom to Lucius's parlor with cup of tea and a blanket before setting to work on the flesh trader.

Once he had given her what she wanted, she forced her 'oriental elixir' down the man's throat. It contained three times the dosage of concentrated opium required to kill a man, mixed in with some belladonna for flavor. She had planned to simply poison him with it, but in the end, it was the same result.

Leaving the corpses behind her, she locked the door to the parlor and found the girl exactly as she'd left her. Shock had begun to set in and the poor girl was shivering. Any ounce of remorse Emily felt for what she had done to Lucius vanished at the sight of the shivering little girl.

Emily sat down next to the girl and wrapped an arm around her, "I am going to take you somewhere safe, alright."

The girl nodded slowly, Emily wrapped her up tighter in the blanket and picked her up. Emily carried her out of the opium den, warding off any curious looks with a murderous glare. She stepped out into the cool evening air where Nigel gaped at her in surprise. He levelled his pistol at the door, probably expecting a host of bruisers to be right on her heels.

"No one is coming after us Nigel, open the door to the carriage." The boy did as he was told. Emily set the girl inside and covered her with another blanket.

"Take us to the next station along the train's route, I need to speak to Evie and Jacob." Emily stepped inside the carriage, once again wrapping her arms around the girl. Nigel deserved credit, he drove as quickly as possible without making the occupants uncomfortable. Emily would have to talk to Evie about raising the boy's wages, considering they kept having the boy go above and beyond his duties and so far he'd handled himself quite admirably. They arrived at the station in Whitechapel, the girl had closed her eyes and seemed asleep. Once again, Emily wrapped the blankets around the girl, picked her up, and stepped out of the carriage.

"Ma'am," Nigel tipped his hat. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Not currently Nigel, but once I speak with Jacob and Evie, I'd suggest you prepare for an all-out assault on a Blighter stronghold." Emily rushed up the stairs, a few onlookers took an interest, but were quickly discouraged by the Rooks of the station. She stepped onto the train and went directly to Evie's quarters. She laid the girl down on the bed and prepared a sleeping draft. The wounds cold do with a good cleaning, but that could wait until tomorrow. First she got the girl out of the degrading outfit Lucius had been keeping her in, then she tucked the girl into bed, and gently held the sleeping draft to her lips. Once the girl had downed the drug, she was quite unconscious.

With the girl squared away, Emily went to Jacob's compartment. Inside she found Evie, Jacob, Sergeant Abberline, and Ned Wynert.

Evie looked surprised, "Emily where have you been?"

She looked grimly at the assembly, "It's a bit of a long story, please don't interrupt until I finish it."

Ned lit up a cigarette, Abberline shifted from foot to foot nervously, and the twins just looked at her curiously. "I learned that some children have been going missing off the street. Using my criminal contacts, I followed the trail to a man named Lucius Jones."

Abberline gasped in horror, "The flesh trader, one of yours? God s-"He was shut up by looks from the other occupants of the compartment.

Better than I thought he would react, "I met the man and learned where at least one of the children ended up. He planned on using her to cure his syphilis."

Disgust and fury passed across the various faces, but no one interrupted. "I dealt with the man and learned where he got her."

Emily took a long breath, it was possible that the next part shouldn't be stated in front of Mister Wynert, but to hell with it.

"Two Templars known as the Fletchers have been kidnapping children, telling people that they're adopting them. They are being held in a compound in Lambeth with a garrison of Blighters and Templar soldiers. Apparently, they're meant to be indoctrinating and the next generation of Templars. And they're apparently a very daring lot, as they've got their own little enterprise alongside their Templar duties. Any children they can't train, they sell to underworld contacts."

The room fell quiet for a long time, the revulsion in the room was palpable. Ned stubbed out his cigarette just a little too hard. Abberline chewed his mustache and fondled his truncheon. Evie's eyes darkened in the same manner they did when she returned from a particularly bloody night.

Jacob was the only one grinning, a dark grin that was more at home on the face of Spring-Heeled Jack. He cracked his knuckles.

"I'll get the lads."

This one is a bit late, but Fallout and school have been dragging me down.

R&R people.


End file.
